“Pay up, mothafucker.”

David punches his friend in the arm and nods at the movie poster of Uma Thurman. God, he makes me feel things when he talks. It’s so weird… like his voice is growly and I always feel like I need to pee when he’s near.

The guy with auburn hair snorts. I think his name is Edge. He plops his large body into the red booth. I look from one to the other. “What?”

David grins and I about die. He has the best smile and a small dimple on his right cheek. It’s barely there with his stubble, but I search for it and always seem to find it.

“We had a bet, gorgeous.” And there goes my stomach and the last of the air in my lungs.

“I had money this was the table you were going to seat us at,” he rasps near my ear, causing me to tremble. His body heat soaks right into me. Geez, he’s not even touching me.

I slap the menus hard on the table and shut my eyes at how loud it sounds. Unless I’m imagining things, I swear he dips his head to smell me as he slides himself into the booth.

Shaking my head, I can’t help but smile as I hand them each a menu. They both sit, hands crossed and grins on their faces.

“Thanks, Beautiful.”

Did his fingers purposely touch mine? I blink at his cocky smirk and those eyes of his…

“Edge put money on the Reservoir Dogs table. But I knew my girl would be doing Pulp Fiction today.”

Holy shit, he’s full-on flirting today. I wish more than anything I was his girl. But I’m not. Can’t be—he’s freaking married, I think. Whatever. He’s taken, locked up tight with an adorable baby girl with blond curls and rosy cheeks. I straighten my shoulders and snip, “So, water? Or beer? I mean, it is almost noon.”

Both of them stop grinning and stare in confusion at my sudden bitchy tone. Someone drops a dish in the back, causing me to jump and look toward the noise then back straight into his hypnotizing silver eyes.

“You okay today?” It sounds almost intimate, which aggravates me.

“Yes… just busy.” I bite my bottom lip as they move their heads to look around me. And all I want to do is run away because of course the diner is almost empty. I never feel like this around other guys.

He and his club have been coming in for as long as I can remember. Their dads and moms brought them as soon as my parents opened. And now they bring their wives, girlfriends… kids. God, life isn’t fair. I want this guy. Like, I want him and have for a while. But besides seeing him here, we don’t hang out. See, he’s a biker, part of a club called the Disciples. I have no idea what they do, but Jesus, some of the guys are hot!

His silver eyes go up and down my body. And not for the first time do I wish I had more curves. I’m skinny like my mom, but she has fake boobs, so that helps her. Mine are real and nothing special.

Slowly I cross one foot over the other.

“I’ll have the club sandwich with extra bacon and fries.” Silence fills the table as we stare at each other until a ghost of a smile appears on his face.

“Edge? You eating or you gonna bitch about Dolly while I eat?”

“Fuck you. Like you’re one to talk.” His eyes signal toward me. And my heart skips a beat. Is Edge insinuating that David talks about me?

“Give me a bacon cheeseburger cooked bloody and some onion rings.”

I nod as I frantically make my shaky hands write. Edge is looking at his phone and he doesn’t look happy.

“Seriously, you okay, Charlie?” I want so badly to stomp my foot and scream the truth, that even though I’m only seventeen I love him. Biting down on my bottom lip, I nod. He leans back, crossing his hands behind his neck as he watches me. That incredible grin and those sculpted arms make me dizzy.

“And we’ll have two Cokes. We don’t drink when we’re on our bikes.”

“O-kay.” I put the pen behind my ear and shove the napkin with their order in my back pocket. As I reach for the menus, a strong tan hand reaches for my wrist. Oh God, this guy does things inside my head and heart that confuse me. When he touches me, it’s almost like being singed. Puffing out some air, I turn to look at him. His face is inches from mine, and I breathe in his sweet cinnamon breath.

“You’re acting different today. What is it?” His eyes narrow and I notice they’re not really silver; they’re light blue. He’s not a boy—he’s a man, and I’m not thinking right around him. I need to stay away. If he asked me, I’d drop everything, even college, to be with him. Which is insane thinking… because he wouldn’t. And it would kill my parents… well, not kill them, but they would freak. They took a loan on the diner to send me to Notre Dame Catholic High School so I could get into the USC theater program. It worked, and I’ll start in two months. That means I won’t see David again, which makes me want to die.

Do Not Sell My Personal Information